Resourceful Business
by Toxi
Summary: There was once a small nation that was a part of the Soviet Union. Russia tried to convert him to his way, but Ruslan refused. Now Ivan is back as a "business partner" but is there more to it than that?
1. Agreement

Resourceful Business

"Would this be enough?" The fair-haired Russian leaned a little closer, pointing at a number on a sheet of paper. His dark violet eyes were half-closed and he wore a gentle smile on his face, though his facial expressions never really conveyed his emotions. You were either a part of or against Russia, and Ruslan wanted neither.

The introverted Turkmen nodded slowly, mentally toying with the number in his head. Ivan would be paying him the sum that he was pointing to for every unit of natural gas that Ruslan shipped to him. It wasn't as much as he was hoping for, but it was still agreeable. Ruslan looked up at his business partner, Ivan Braginski. "Okay," Turkmenistan let out in a quiet, yet somehow monotone, voice. "We'll be business partners."

Ivan tilted his head to the side gently and smiled widely, "Ah, thank you, Turkmenistan. I was hoping that you'd agree."

Just for a moment, Ruslan saw a particular glint in Ivan's eyes. He pulled back for a moment, wondering if he should regret his new business agreement with the difficult nation. He was once a part of the Soviet Union, but he wondered if making a settlement with Russia seemed like a proposal of friendship…

At one point, Turkmenistan was just a whole bunch of nomadic tribes with a certain style and behavior. He really wasn't unified and was sort of all over the place. And for some time, he had trouble which dialect should be considered his 'official language'. He was sort of alone, but it wasn't bothering him, really. For a quite a while, Turkmenistan abided by his old, traditional ways. But then some other nations found him, and Russia claimed him as a part of the Soviet Union.

Ruslan didn't live with Ivan, but he was still considered to be 'Ivan's'. Ruslan didn't really have a house. He stayed in the same general area as he does now. Russia tried to convert him to become more Russian-like, and even brought over religion and certain cultural aspects, but Ruslan wasn't really ready to accept them. Russia was sort of forcing Turkmenistan to listen to whatever he said, but Turkmenistan pulled away and squirmed.

Then the Soviet Union collapsed, and Ruslan was free. He set up his own house, and finally felt like he had accomplished something great. But no one considered him to be anything. His home was over 70% desert and for a while he was just Russia's leftovers. But then Iran acknowledged him, and he started to interact with other countries thanks to her help. Ruslan owed a lot to Iran—to Ziba.

Ruslan heard a knock on his door, and scurried toward it. Following him in tow was his little black sheep, Gara. Ruslan knew it would be Ivan, has he had called him earlier to say that he wanted to arrange an agreement. Ruslan had lots of resources, and he wanted to expand his economy. Russia's location across the Caspian Sea made him the prime buyer. Russia was fighting with China and the United States to tap his resources, and he was the first to strike. Ruslan knew the risks, and considered making an offer to America…But he also realized that if he tried to talk to Alfred, he would just set up camp and try to rearrange his government to become 'stable' or whatever the hell he considered to be right. Ruslan didn't want to be changed. Russia had also seemed gentler towards him in recent years as well. Maybe the risk wouldn't be that great. . .

Ruslan pulled open his door, and Ivan was looming over him with a smile and a small case dangling in one hand. "Hello there, little Ruslan." Ruslan stepped aside and ushered in the massive nation, scurrying into another room to bring him a tray with two glasses of tea—one for his guest, and one for himself. He had already prepared the tea a few minutes prior. Ruslan was always making tea in case Iran would come over to visit. "Always so polite," Russia said with a smile, and sat down on the floor with the resident of the house.

Ruslan sat down with his legs crossed, eyeing Ivan suspiciously without trying to seem too doubtful. Ruslan was a country of few words, and judging from his 'neutral' expression, he seemed agitated about something most of the time. But, in truth, he was just a very thoughtful person. _Well, this was Ivan's idea…so maybe he knows what he's specifically looking for. _Ivan pulled the small case in front of him after having a few sips of tea and opened it carefully, the silver case opening like a clam shell with a loud _KLIK._ Ruslan blinked several times as Ivan pulled out a small stack of papers. "As I explained to you over the phone, I want to buy some your natural gas supply."

Ivan handed Ruslan several papers, which the smaller nation politely received and eyed them, glancing from the papers to the man sitting in front of him. "That's fine," Ruslan agreed, though there was still a hint of cautiousness in his voice. Ivan's expression was calm and formal. Though his eyes were dark, they seemed somehow clear. His expression was relaxed, and he looked like he was making a genuine offer. But Ruslan remembered being a part of the Soviet Union. It wasn't _that_ bad, but he went through a lot of changes he didn't like. Russia seemed to take a different stance in this situation.

Ruslan carefully flipped through the pages, scanning with his blue eyes about how much natural gas Ivan wanted and that he was also interested in tapping Ruslan's oil and coal supplies. Of course, Russia would be trading resources for money, which Ruslan could use at this point. Gara, Ruslan's pet sheep, trotted closer towards him and fluffed himself up, carefully wedging himself against his owner's left thigh. As Ruslan continued eyeing the papers—trying to be thorough to not miss any hidden details that he was expecting—Ivan gawked at the small black sheep. The sheep stared back at the Russian, and the Russian looked at the sheep.

"I don't remember him being there before, Ruslan…" Ivan started, sounding a little confused.

"Uh, what…?" Ruslan blinked several times, looking up from the papers that he was absorbing himself in. Ivan had only handed him a few pages, but Ruslan was scrutinizing every word. Ruslan brought himself to the idea that maybe he seemed rude by analyzing every bit of the agreement, but he hoped Russia would understand. Ivan didn't seem to be all too perturbed about this, so Turkmenistan said nothing about it, and resumed to the train of thought beforehand. "Oh, Gara? He's…my sheep. I use his fleece to make carpets, sometimes. He's just a pet."

"Oh," Ivan said quietly, still keeping an eye on the small sheep. He then waited patiently for Ruslan to finish reading the documents before pulling out a single piece of paper and brought it to the smaller country's attention. He set it down between them, so that they could both see. "Would this be enough?" The fair-haired Russian leaned a little closer, pointing at a number on a sheet of paper. His dark violet eyes were half-closed and he wore a gentle smile on his face, though his facial expressions never really conveyed his emotions. You were either a part of or against Russia, and Ruslan wanted neither.

The introverted Turkmen nodded slowly, mentally toying with the number in his head. Ivan would be paying him the sum that he was pointing to for every unit of natural gas that Ruslan shipped to him. It wasn't as much as he was hoping for, but it was still agreeable. Ruslan looked up at his business partner, Ivan Braginski. "Okay," Turkmenistan let out in a quiet, yet somehow monotone, voice. "We'll be business partners."

Ivan tilted his head to the side gently and smiled widely, "Ah, thank you, Turkmenistan. I was hoping that you'd agree."

Just for a moment, Ruslan saw a particular glint in Ivan's eyes. He pulled back for a moment, wondering if he should regret his new business agreement with the difficult nation. He was once a part of the Soviet Union, but he wondered if making a settlement with Russia seemed like a proposal of friendship. He really hoped not. Iran was still trying to keep calm about it, but she didn't really trust Ivan, either. Ruslan thought of himself as wishy-washy. He didn't want to betray anyone, but he didn't want anyone to become his enemy—not with his few allies at stake. He didn't want anyone to suffer on his behalf.

Ivan pulled back the papers and stacked them neatly before placing them back into the silver case. "Does this make us friends for the time being?" Ivan smiled, the corners of his lips curling. Ivan was staring Ruslan straight in the eye, which made him uncomfortable.

Ruslan didn't want to be blunt and reply with a 'no', but at the same time, he didn't want to agree so suddenly. Instead, he said what he believed them to be. "We're just…business partners."

Ivan's smile faded ever so slightly, but as he closed the case, he blinked slightly, "Will we be friends again soon?"

_Friends?_ Ruslan thought. _We were never really friends to begin with! You just claimed me as a part of your territory because I was in the area…I guess I just wasn't strong enough at the time to really amount to anything. _Of course, Ruslan did not voice his thoughts. "I don't…know." Ruslan said in a mumble, hoping that Ivan wouldn't be able to hear whatever he had said and just nod.

Ivan rose to his feet, towering over the small-statured Turkmenistan. He smiled and placed a hand atop Ruslan's head, placing it a little before his hat—called a pakol—started. There was a moment of silence as the two nations exchanged a non-verbal farewell, and Ivan headed towards the door with a smile, waving slightly as he left Ruslan's house, and closed the door behind him.

Ruslan let out a relieved sigh, "I hope this goes well…" He muttered pessimistically to himself. Gara jumped to his feet and started to follow Turkmenistan to the other parts of his home. Ruslan had already gathered the two cups that were used and brought them into his kitchen. He peered into the cup that Ivan had used, and stared at it for a moment as he held it in his right hand. "He didn't finish." He said aloud, "I wonder if he even likes tea…probably not. Vodka must have ruined him…" Ruslan was slightly familiar with the strong-smelling liquor that looked like water at a glance. Back when Turkmenistan had first met the Russian, he had mistaken the vodka bottle for a water flask, and had taken several big gulps. That had been a mistake.

Gara let out a soft bleat and Ruslan knelt down to pat him on the head. "Thank you for putting up with Ivan," He said to the sheep. "He seems a lot kinder to me now. Either, he's changed, or he's desperate for natural gas." He let out another small sigh, "Whichever it is, at least I'm making money."

A shrill cry resounded throughout Ruslan's small house and he immediately sprang into action. It was his phone. He quickly scurried to answer it as quickly as possible and picked up the black phone that Americans would consider to be 'retro'—it was all he had. "Hello?" He voiced quickly, a little curious at whom might be at the other end. It could be Ivan, but it'd be a little silly to call someone right after a visit unless it was something urgent.

"Oh, um, hello!" It was a female voice. A voice that Ruslan was slightly familiar with—a woman who happened to be a relative of the man he had just interacted with.

"Oh…Ukraine?" Turkmenistan voiced, his tone ending on a high note in the indication that he was just guessing. He pleaded with himself that he was right, and that he _hadn't _messed up his caller's name.

"Oh, yes." She replied, seeming a little flustered. "I just heard that Ivan's signed an agreement with you about a natural gas trade…"

_Wow…News must travel fast or something…!_

"How did you hear about it so…so quickly? Ivan just…left my house." The other nation sounded a little at a loss of what to say.

"Oh, ahah," The other laughed, "Ivan said a little something about getting to talk to you again, so I just assumed…"

"Oh," Ruslan replied with a nod, realizing that her explanation sounded very plausible.

"The reason I wanted to call you was because…well, Russia's charging too much for what I'm asking for. I know it must sound really rude…but…I was hoping that I could set up an agreement with you as well. I hope I'm not being a bother…"

Turkmenistan paused. Were all of his neighbors suddenly aware of his existence only as soon as word of a massive supply of natural gas came about? He felt a little tinge of happiness and agitation all at once. It wasn't like he just showed up! He's been in the same area for a while…But now was the time to deal with the problem at hand. Did he want to make an agreement with Russia's big sister, Ukraine? "Well," The Turkmen paused, "That's…fine, I guess." He thought about the option that Ivan decided to be the middle man and charge his sister much more than what he had bought from his original source—Turkmenistan. It seemed more than plausible. Maybe that's why he was being so polite and formal? Ruslan had a horrible time at reading Ivan's expressions, and decided he'd just give up on the guessing game. He then snapped back into reality and realized that he had paused for an awkwardly long moment.

"Oh, sorry," He apologized, "I..spaced out there for a moment, forgive me."

"That's just fine," Ukraine's gentle voice sounded back at him. Even her voice had a certain quality of the 'big sister' role.

"Well, I think that would be alright…I mean, setting up an agreement as well. I don't particularly have a problem…"

"Oh good!" Ukraine's relieved voice echoed back. "Thank you so much, Ruslan! I hope that we both prosper!" And after a simple 'good-bye', she hung up the phone.

"Hm!" Ruslan muttered and sat down on the floor, Gara jumping up into his lap. Gara seemed quite like a dog, in some cases, but was obviously a sheep. "I wonder how all of these new business relationships will go…Maybe this way I can gather more allies without forming any real friendships…"

Gara replied with a quiet bleat.

_If all of this works out well, I could make a lot of money…_

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^ - ^ Thank you for reading this!! I'm willing to take any ideas and suggestions and add them into the story, and I'd like a little feedback on what you think of Ruslan. If you want to see a picture of him, please go to my deviantart. (There's a link to it in my bio). This is based on real events that are taking place right now/a week or two ago. I was inspired by current events in my social studies class! = 7 =


	2. Big Sister Ziba

= 7 = Aha…no reviews. I guess that's what I'm supposed to expect when I add OCs… OTL

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Resourceful Business

"So you're going to work with him, after all?" The Iranian woman said, unpinning her head scarf so she could pull it down. Her long dark brown hair erupted out of her hijab and she fluffed it up a bit so it wouldn't feel so strange. She stared at the nation who she considered to be a sibling, despite having no blood relation. She blinked her green eyes once and stared at Turkmenistan straight in the eye. "You're working with Russia?"

"Well," Ruslan paused, "He was the one who started the offer, but he's paying a pretty good amount so—"

"Ruslan," his 'big sister' interrupted him, "just make sure he's not trying to trick you. Ivan's a pretty crafty man!"

_I know…_ Ruslan said in his mind. He didn't like how Iran would treat him like a child on occasion. He could think for himself. "I'm being careful," He responded.

Ziba smiled at him, "Good. I just don't want anything bad to happen to you, Ruslan." Ziba wrapped her arms around Ruslan for a brief moment, and smiled back at him when she released him. Ruslan was still a little confused about everything, and despite the fact that Ziba wanted to help in any way possible, there was something he couldn't bring himself to tell her: He loved her. But he had to hide it. Even if he didn't, she probably wouldn't notice anyway. She was so oblivious, sometimes…

"I know," Ruslan replied solemnly, his voice quieter than usual. It was the reason he never referred to her as a sister. If he got it in his mind that instead of a friend, she was a blood-related family member, he could never think of anything other than his 'incestuous' relationship with her, even though it was only one-sided. But Ruslan had trouble with words, and trouble with relationships, and so he never really knew how to express himself. "I'm just trading with Ivan because his economy is better than mine. I've got what he wants, so maybe there's a way that we can both win."

Iran advanced father into his house, gently patting Gara on the head. When Ruslan started talking again, Ziba would still be listening, but not turned to focus on him.

"It's not just Ivan," Ruslan added, "Ukraine, Germany, China and even the United States want to trade with me. It just seems that Russia is the easiest for me to deal with, at this point."

Ziba turned around to look at him out of the corner of her eyes, and nodded. "Well, alright then," Ruslan remembered how often Ziba and Ivan could get into fights, even when they were trying to work together. Ziba hated it that Ivan had sort of corrupted all of her little brothers—all of the Central Asian nations. Ziba was a very passionate older sister, and very protective of her brothers. She would have assumed that Ivan could have felt the same way over his two sisters. But apparently, not. In a way, Ziba was a little angry that Ruslan was getting noticed by all of these bigger nations. It would be harder for her to protect him, but Turkmenistan was growing up. He would become a bigger nation, and prosper from all of his natural resources.

There was a strange silence in the room as mixed feeling conflicted with each other. Ruslan never knew what to say, not even to 'his sister'. She had always looked out for him and protected him, and through the elapse of time, he had managed to fall in love with her. He glanced at her form as she was still kneeling down to stroke the black sheep's soft fleece. Wrapped up in a dark purple robe that concealed most of her form. Her boss wanted her to cover up more than ever, but she missed the days when she had more freedom. Back then, Turkmenistan was still a part of the Soviet Union, and didn't have a whole lot of knowledge of the world around him.

Ziba played favorites, and always loved to have her little brother, Ruslan, around. She visited him often and loved to trade things with him. She helped jump start his country, and sort of raised him after the Soviet Collapse. But she was still blind to his hidden feeling for her.

"I'm going over to Ivan's house tomorrow," Ruslan said, catching Ziba's attention. She turned around, and blinked a few times.

"You are?"

"He invited me," Ruslan responded. "So I'm going to go over to his house."

"But Rus—"

"I'll be fine," He interrupted her, feeling stronger. Because of his height, and his status among nations, he always felt so small. Everyone seemed to be taller than him, and his small triangular eyebrows would furrow even more. "I'll make sure nothing bad happens."

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Okay, sorry for such a short chapter, but I'm seriously brain dead for this one. If you've even bothered reading this far, thank you. I'm still going to continue this, but I don't know for how much longer. Ideas and suggestions would be _most_ appreciated by this point.


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